


Flying

by Amaya_Ithilwen



Series: Collection of RVB-OneShots [12]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-Typical Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical Cursing, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3339470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaya_Ithilwen/pseuds/Amaya_Ithilwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Freelancers are flying home after a failed Mission. And having a discussion which only would come up when coming home with the four-seven-niner from a mission</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying

“Command, here is four-seven-niner. Request to land in about fifteen minutes.”

“Four-seven-niner, here is command. You have the permission to land at gate six.”

“Understood, command. Four-seven-niner end and out.” The soldier flying the so-called four-seven-niner Pelican-type spaceship slightly turned around to fly to the correct gate.

Behind her, another soldier, in teal armor, was sitting and helping with the instruments and the maneuvers. She was taking over the role as co-pilot before and after the missions.

 

In the back of the ship, there were the teams Alpha and Beta. Namely: Carolina, North, South, Wyoming, Meta, Wash, CT and York.

They all were as fucked up as possible. And would be even worse when they were back at the Mother of Invention, when Carolina would hound them.

 

They just were about to come back from a recovery mission. They had to retrieve an alien-artifact for some reason no Freelancer knew. Perhaps because the director had something in mind with it. But as the last times, they didn’t manage to accomplish their mission and Agent Texas showed up and got all the praises. While the two teams were left to deal with the injuries and an angry Carolina. Except of CT, Carolina and South, everyone had at least some bleeding wounds or broken bones.

 

Ironically, no woman was hurt. But all of the guys, thought York while looking at the bandage around his upper right leg. He hadn’t watched out while picking a lock. Well, a guy sneaked up on him and stabbed him there. Luckily, it was only the leg as the enemy aimed for his heart or throat.

 

Wyoming had gotten shot in the shoulder as he was cracking jokes while sniping. Because of the jokes, the Freelancer wasn’t holding still. The reflection of the armor in the beam of the headlights was a perfect target to aim at for the hostile sniper.

 

Maine wasn’t so badly hurt, but he had some injuries nonetheless. Well, he was the one fighting in the first row only with his brute strength, so it was only consequential that he was injured. He would have many black spots – like everyone here. According to the way he held his right hand, some fingers were broken again. There was a bloody scratch at his side and on the left arm, as well as on both of his ankles. The injury at the ankles came from a tripwire the enemy had set up to stop them. Or slow them down at least.

 

Looking over to the hallway, which led to the commanding station of the ship, York thought about Carolina. Since Tex showed up, she was unnaturally edgy. Training even harder and demanding the same of her soldiers she had under her command. And when the mustard yellow soldier tried to talk to his girlfriend, she would always block him off, making it impossible to make a conversation. She was so stubborn sometimes.

 

While looking around and mustering the soldiers, York overheard a conversation between Wash and South mainly, others just commenting. It was always funny what kind of different discussions they had while flying back. Sometimes it was funny, sometimes awkward, but amusing nonetheless.

 

“You’re a horrible jetpack-pilot! How about trying to improve your style of flight? My grandma flies better than you!” snorted South, obviously replying to a comment of Wash York hadn’t heard.

“That’s because I still don’t fucking know what happened to Georgia!” exclaimed Washington with a high-pitched voice. Right, Wash didn’t know what happened to the green soldier. In addition, neither of the guys and girls explained it. It was like a mutual agreement that Wash wouldn’t be told what happened to him. Just because it was funny to tease him with that.

 

“Who knows?” replied South, smiling ominously while shrugging, before adding. “But considering your armor enhancement I thinks it’s better you stick on your way of flying. I wouldn’t want the emp to go off in the middle of a flight and crash directly into a wall, head first. That would definitely be fucking worse than what happened to Georgia.”

 

“It’s called EMP! Not emp! E.M.P! And why the fuck does nobody tell me what happened to him!?” Insisted Wash his voice four octaves higher than usually, obviously having forgotten about the broken right arm, which was hanging limp in a loop of cloth around his neck. One of the guys caught him off guard, giving a perfectly placed blow to the unprotected part of the arm, breaking it in two.

 

“Yeah sure, any my fucking name is S-O-Uth.”

“That sounds fucked up. Like a teenie boyband.” Remarked York with a smirk, observing the two who were having the discussion. South only threw him an angry glare while Wash looked stressed and pissed. Because of the emp, EMP, whatever it’s called and Georgia.

Sometimes York almost felt a bit pity for the poor guy. However, that was immediately forgotten when he could make fun of him.

 

“Haven’t you once been a fan of a group called like that?” asked North his sister, who was pressing a towel against his right brow. He had gotten a laceration as South pushed him rudely aside by entering the pelican. North had hit one of the metal braces at the entry with his head. Otherwise, he was uninjured.

 

Before saying something to the topic South and Wash were discussing, he had to calm down Theta. The AI-Fragment had been completely upset because North got injured and he hadn’t been able to project him with the doomed energy shield. Getting through to the little Fragment that it was okay and he couldn’t have done something and that, no, North wasn’t mad with him, took quite a lot of time, patience and calming words.

So after Theta seemed to get that it really was not the worlds end when North was injured, the little fragment was sitting on Norths left shoulder – Because South sat to his right and he didn’t like her – still sniffing silently. Obviously, he hadn’t calmed down completely yet.

 

Looking to South, York could see her roll her eyes. “Their name was S-O-S-Goth. They were no tiny-teenie-boyband; they were a fucking gothic metal band. And all but women.” Snapped South, as usual when it got too personal for her or she didn’t want to talk about it. Now looking over to York, she only remarked. “You have a fucking bad timing for your humor.”

 

The other Freelancer smiled under his helmet because of how easily you could piss off South and of her childish way to pronounce the word ‘tiny-teenie-boyband’.

“Haven’t gotten the fragment of humor only the one of logic.”

“Agent New York, I must disagree. I indeed can be humorous, but the-“

“Thanks D.”

“But Agent-“

“Thanks D, that’s enough.”

“Okay.”

 

Just as D finally shut up, there was another voice coming over from the other corner of the ship, having a broad British accent. “Someone needing some humor? Knock, knock. Who’s there?”

“Not that again! Shut the fuck up!” Shouted the whole group unison, except of Connie. She was slumped against the belts holding her on the seat and sleeping. She had used a lot of energy to create the holograms to trick the enemies while sneaking in. And the fight following hadn’t made it better. Besides that she had gotten hit directly by the EMP what always causes a slight numb feeling – Mentally as well as physically.

 

“Who is ‘Not that again! Shut the fuck up!’?”

“Just shut your fucking trap!” that was South, making the white armored Freelancer finally shutting up. You don’t want to mess with South when there was no possibility to flee unless you want to commit suicide. Even less when being in such a small room like the Pelican together with her.

The mother of invention was another point. On the huge ship, Wyoming was able to escape from Souths rage and would sometimes even piss her off on purpose. Like everybody does with everybody every day.

 

“Well then, what was the topic? Oh yes, the emp.”

“It’s called EMP!” Insisted Wash with a squeaky voice, throwing his hands in the air. This guy was so easy to get flustered. Moreover, they all loved it to make fun of him.

“Yeah and because of that everyone says emp. It’s way easier to say. E.M.P. is too laborious. If it needs to be quick, it’s emp.”

“But that’s not right!” insisted the grey soldier, glaring at York with anger and disbelief.

 

“Guys, stop the bickering!” Carolina came over to the group as the pilot didn’t need her help anymore. She would land the Pelican alone. She could do that in even when sleeping, she once announced as they asked her about flight skills and landing.

 

“But it’s called E.M.P!” insisted Wash and glared at Carolina who deliberately walked past him.

“Maybe, but we have no time to discuss that. You guys all go now to the sick bay. Immediately.”

Wash opened his mouth to say something but shut it then, not saying more. At least Carolina was his superior.

 

York and the others chuckled lowly and grinned as Carolina stood at the exit, which opened just now, looking back to the guys over her shoulder. Everyone could feel that she was angry with them and her next words would be meant dead serious. That there would be no escape of the things she announced and that every single one had to follow this order.

 

“And when being well again, you guys start to run laps. And you only stop if your legs give in. Oh, and Wash, you’re going to train your usage of the emp – At least it’s your armor enhancement. Just to prevent that you end up like Georgia.”


End file.
